


Not This One

by alby_mangroves



Series: Sutcliff Swap [2]
Category: SUTCLIFF Rosemary - Works, The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff
Genre: Celts, Drawing, Fanart, Gen, Roman Britain, sutcliff_swap 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'The Commander and I have laid a wager,' said Cradoc. 'His brooch against one of my hunting-spears. He has won, and now he is come to choose his spear.' As he spoke, he took one from the sheaf and stood leaning on it with a gesture that said quite plainly, 'But not this one.'</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not This One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riventhorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/gifts).



> Dear riventhorn, I hope you like my imagining of Cradoc in that crucial moment between him and Marcus - thank you for requesting him!
> 
> Thanks to Amph, Cello and Carmarthen for their Beta and advice on this, much appreciated <3

Excerpt from The Eagle of the Ninth:

_Marcus had already turned to the hunter, for that other spear had caught his interest, and been in his mind even while he made his choice._

_It was to the rest of the sheaf what a king is to his bodyguard; the shaft darkened with much handling, the iron blade perfect in shape as a laurel leaf, engraved with a strange and potent design that swirled like the eddies in_ _running water. The weight of the head was counterbalanced by a ball of enamelled bronze on the butt, and about its neck was a collar of blue-grey heron's feathers._

_'I have not seen the like of this before,' Marcus said. 'It is a war spear, is it not?'_

_Cradoc's hand caressed the smooth shaft. 'It was my father's war spear,' he said. 'It was in his hand when he died - up yonder under our old ramparts where the fortress walls stand now. See, the mark is still upon it ... his own_ _blood, and the blood of his enemy.'_

_He parted the heron's feathers to show the neck of the shaft blackened by an old stain._

 


End file.
